creepypastafandomcom-20200222-history
The Hitman
The job I have is a simple one. Somebody wants someone else dead, they pay me to do it. I'm not a monster mind you, I have my fair share of standards. I'm not a sadistic psychopath who loves his job, I do what I have to too survive in this messy little world of ours, and if killing for money means survival, then I'll do what I must. Today, I got a job in the big city. Apparently, the new commissioner, Jones, isn't as cooperative with my "employers" as the last one was, so they called me in to deal with him. Not surprising, I've dealt with the incorruptible before. To be honest, I always felt a little bad for killing people like that, they just want to do the right thing. But hey, a job is a job. When I arrived at the city, I made my way to a friend on mine. Officer Williams is my buddy with a badge, he's helped me with other jobs in this city before, he's surprisingly polite for such a dirty cop. After a quick chat and a couple of beers, he told me were I could find Jones' apartments, and that he would be visiting family for the weekend, perfect. That gives me ample time to scope out his place. When Saturday finally rolled around, I checked up with Williams to make sure Jones left, then made my way to his apartment. I parked my van in an alley by the fire escape before going inside. I tried not too look to suspicious as I made my way to his apartment, room number 523. I checked the hallway, before picking the lock and slipping into the room. The apartment looked lovely, if I do say so myself. For a man who lives alone, he sure does keep his place clean. As I walked through the apartment, I noticed a window in the bedroom and opened it, it the fire escape, perfect. You see, I wasn't just supposed to kill Jones, my "employers" wanted him abducted, tortured and strung up somewhere public. As a message to the next poor sap who takes this job. That's when I heard it, the door to Jones apartment being unlocked. Panicking, I made my way to his bedroom closet, trying not to make a sound as slid open the doors and hid among his coats. I was able to see the room through the small spaces in the door. Thankfully, I'm a paranoid son of a bitch, and I brought my pistol. Who could that be? A thief. Hope so, I could make a quick eescape and maybe do a little house cleaning while I'm at it; my "employers" always hated the lower ranking criminals in this city. But it could just as easily be a kindly neighbor who agreed to watch his apartment, that would be unfortunate, I hate it when civilians get caught in the crossfire. Hopefully they don't find me, then no one has to die. Suddenly, the bedroom door opened, and a familiar face walked in. Jones. I...I don't understand, I had Williams make sure he left the city and he would never lie to me, he's done too much to go good guy now. Well, when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. As Jones sat on his bed and began untying his shoes, I slipped out of the closet and began making my way towards him. Thankfully, the closet was to his back. With a quick blow to the back of his head, with the side of my gun, he was unconscious. I picked up his surprisingly light body and made my way to the window. I'll spear you the details of climbing down the fire escape while carrying a grown man, but I'll tell you, it was a bitch. After finally getting Jones' unconscious body in the van, I drove us to the outskirts of the city. I have a little house out their, I intended to use it as a hideout if a job in the city goes wrong. Thankfully, I haven't failed a job in this city yet, I'm not sure if I would be alive if I did, my "employers" aren't exactly big on failures. When I got to my little hideout, I dragged Jones out of the van and carried him to the basement. After tying him to a chair, I waited patiently for him to wake up. Thankfully, it didn't take that long for him to regain consciousness. "Where...where am I?" he asked with a start. "Hello Commissioner Jones," I began. "I'm..." "Wilson Black," he said matter-of-factly, like he didn't just wake up from a blow to the head. I was naturally taken aback. "How do you know my name?" I asked, beginning to feel uneasy. How did he know who I was? I've never seen this guy before, well...not until this job at least, and even if I did, how would he know my identity. Most people who see my face don't live to long to tell about it. "I know lots of things about you Mr. Black." He started talking in a low, raspy whisper. "I know you've committed a number of sins in your life. I know you've killed countless men, women and children just for the money. I know your shitty justification for all of your horrible atrocities, surviving in a harsh world. Bullshit! You're just scum and if you don't let me go and change your ways, you won't live to see the sun rise in the morning." I stepped away from the man tied to the chair before me. How...how does he know my name? How does he know my philosophy? This doesn't make any sense! He's screwing with me...he must be, there is no other logical explanation for this. "I know what you're thinking," Jones said, he was smiling at me. "You're wondering how I know so much about you. Well, I'll tell you, I'm the thing that gives people like you the justice they deserve. I'm not Commissioner Jones Mr. Black, you can call me the one thing guys like you don't feel, Regret." I've heard enough of this. I pulled out my pistol and shot him in the head. His head flew back as blood and grey matter covered the wall behind him. He was dead, but his word stuck with me. Feeling extremely uncomfortable, I decided to get a few beers from the local bar in the city. As I was driving, I thought about everything he said. No...I'm not scum...I'm a survivor. I choose this job because it was the only way I could survive. I...I'm not scum...not scum. When I got to the bar I ordered a light beer, bottom shelf. I didn't want to get drunk...just...needed something to take the edge off. As I was drinking, I looked over at the television over the bar, the news was on. "There was a break-in at the apartment of Commissioner Albert Jones," the young reporter said casually. "Neighbors grew suspicious when they found his apartment door left open. When one of his neighbors, an elderly man by the name of Frank Wilson, checked his apartment to find blood in the bedroom, the police were called. Thankfully, the commissioner was out visiting family when the break-in happened, and the blood found was unidentifiable. After being informed of the incident, the commissioner was forced to cut his family visit short and returne for questioning." My heart stopped. I dropped my drink and ran out of the bar. The bar tender screamed at me about something, but I was too panicked to hear what it was about. I knew all that mattered was getting to my hideout. I jumped in my van and took off towards its location. When I arrived, the sun had set completely. I gripped my pistol tightly as I grabbed a flashlight and made my way inside. Nothing looked out of place...maybe he's still dead, I thought, holding on to whatever hope I had. I made my way to the basement door, pistol and flashlight shaking, I slowly opened the door and made my way down the stairs. When I got to the bottom, I flicked on the light-switch. Unfortunately, it worked, I say unfortunately because what I saw made me want to puke. Jones' body, or what looked like Jones' body was left...hollow. When I say hollow, I mean empty, no organs, no blood, no bones...God...it's like something has been wearing a skin suit this whole time. Then I heard the basement door slam shut. I froze, gripping my pistol even tighter as I heard foot steps come down the stairs behind me. I can't...I can't turn around...I blow that thing's brains out...I-I can't kill it. All I can do is weep, as I feel a hand grip my shoulder. Category:Beings